One little slip
by GreatMarta
Summary: 7-year-old Hiccup witnesses an accident involving his father's housekeeper and the hearth. [repost from AO3] [part of "Hiccup at large" series] [features a graphic description of a burn injury]


WARNING: graphic description of a burn injury.

Hiccup shifted under the cover, an unpleasant sensation disturbing his sleep. It was as if a really bad storm was approaching. There were noises he couldn't quite understand, noises he hoped would go away. Yet they rapidly intensified, becoming louder and clearer, despite his best attempts to ignore them. A pillow over his head was not enough. He recognized his father's angry shouting. He recognized Rhea's angry shouting. He closed his ears harder, telling himself it was just a bad dream.

But then a terrifying scream cut off his ties with peace.

Hiccup sat on his bed, his heart pounding. The scream was lasting still, becoming worse with every second. It lasted when his father cried "Rhea!", it lasted when he cried "Hold on!". It was still ongoing as Hiccup reached the stairs, as he took a couple of steps down.

And then he saw Rhea and gasped in fright.

The woman lay on the floor, yelling at the top of her lungs, shaking hopelessly. Hiccup's father was standing above her, holding a barrel, ripping it open and pouring its content onto her. The water made Rhea cry even louder, steam rose from her body. There were horrible red bubbles on the surface of her skin, consuming half of her face. A burning smell crawled into Hiccup's nose, almost making him vomit. His father collected Rhea into his arms, telling her it would be alright, that he would take her to the laeknir. And so he did, never once noticing his son saw the whole thing.

Hiccup sat on the stairs, trying to make sense out of what happened. He had never seen such painfully looking wounds. He had never seen his father this scared. This was all too surreal. This had to be a dream. So he told himself, trying to ignore the stench that refused to leave his nostrils.

His father returned home when it was dawning. He walked slowly, dragging his legs rather than lifting them. He looked so tired, so sad, so scared. So not like himself. It wasn't a good sign.

"Dad, what happened to Rhea?" asked Hiccup, running to him.

"She… she tripped," said the man, in a voice deprived of all emotions. "She tripped and fell into the hearth."

"Will she be okay?" Hiccup asked on, anxiously.

"I don't know," sighed his father. "I don't know."

It was a sad day in the Haddock household.

(...)

It was three weeks after the accident that Hiccup's father agreed to take him to Rhea. Ever since that night she stayed at the laeknir's house and nobody was allowed to see her.

"She drinks a potion that makes her sleep," Hiccup's father explained. "We must wait until she feels better."

Hiccup thought that Rhea would get better sooner if she had company, but his father claimed she needed peace above everything else. So they waited. And waited.

They spoke little, the silence between them heavy with worries. Father went to work. Hiccup spent most of the time in the forge, observing Gobber at work and listening to his tales. Gobber was kind enough to take over the cooking and cleaning, and Hiccup assisted him in those tasks. As they worked, they talked. Talking to Gobber was so much easier than talking to father.

"Gobber, do you think we can do something to help Rhea get better?"

"Well, you could draw her a picture," suggested Gobber. "Something really nice."

It was a great idea. Hiccup took his charcoal, the colorful paint he kept on special occasions, and painted a beautiful picture of himself and Rhea holding hands and smiling. He wrote 'Get better soon' above them. He was extremely proud of his work.

The other day in the forge Gobber gave him some leather scraps.

"I'm going to teach you how to make an eye-patch," he announced majestically. "Rhea might want one since she lost an eye."

Hiccup thought it was a great idea. With Gobber's guidance he sewed together a real good eye-patch. He later painted an eye on it. It looked much better this way. He was sure Rhea would love it.

He showed the gifts to his father, eager to hear his opinion. The chief made a very sad face, as if Hiccup's work made him want to cry. He then smiled – with tremendous effort – uttered "I'm sure Rhea will love it" and left the room. Hiccup felt bad about making his father sad, but Gobber told him it wasn't his fault.

"Stoick is worried about Rhea, that's all. But he's the chief and he can't show he's scared or anything like that. Real Vikings are tough."

Hiccup nodded, thinking he understood. Rhea too said Vikings are tough. Whenever he asked her to do something with Snotlout – who always made fun of him – she told him to man up and stand up for himself. He did try to be brave, to make her happy, and ended up getting beat up. Rhea would then make him cold compresses, parfait, and sing him happy songs. It made most of the pain go away. Usually.

Hiccup decided he was going to sing to Rhea once he visits her. That ought to cheer her up.

Finally the big day has come. Hiccup and his father went to the laeknir's house. The laeknir showed them to the room Rhea occupied. Bandages covered half of her face, left shoulder and chest. She was half laying half sitting on the bed, and had an indifferent expression. Hiccup was happy to see that she wasn't groaning or shifting nervously. It meant it no longer hurt. She was recovering well.

"Rhea, how are you?" Hiccup asked, hopping to the side of her bed.

"As if a dragon ate me and threw me up," she said blankly, not even turning to look at him.

"I made you gifts," Hiccup went on, determined to make her smile. "See? I painted this all by myself. And this too. Gobber helped only a little."

That, finally, made Rhea move – slowly, as if she honestly didn't care, but still. Her one eye regarded Hiccup with something that might have counted as curiosity. Her hand reached for the picture. She looked at it – looked at it very carefully. She handled the eye-patch in the same fashion. Those gifts impressed her. She didn't smile, but Hiccup could see that she liked them. After all, she looked at them so intensively. Surely she was amazed with how much he was capable of doing. And then – the best thing of all – she put the items on her lap. The boy's heart swelled with pride.

"I can sing you a song," he offered. "The one you sing to me. Do you want that?"

Suddenly he felt his father's hand on his shoulder.

"Hiccup, that's enough surprises," said father. "Save something for the next time."

"Right," said Hiccup. He'd love to visit Rhea some more. It was good that father shared the sentiment.

Meanwhile the chief addressed the woman. And when he spoke, his voice was full of sorrow.

"Rhea, I'm so sorry. If…" he hesitated. "If there was something I could do…"

He didn't finish. He just sighed. Heavily.

Rhea considered his words. "There is," she said finally.

The father and son paid attention.

"I want a ship," said Rhea indifferently. "Solid, but one I could manage on my own. I want supplies. Equipment. You have a better idea than me what is needed in the sea. This you surely could do,"

They stared at her, surprised.

"A ship?" asked Hiccup. "What do you need a ship for?"

"So I wouldn't have to swim on my little vacation forever," she replied, as blankly as ever.

Somehow these words scarred the laeknir. "Child, in your condition?" she asked worriedly.

Rhea turned at the old woman, giving her a glare that could freeze blood in veins. Hiccup got so scared he bumped into his father. Why was Rhea so angry? What was happening?

"My body, my choice!" roared Rhea, threatening the laeknir with her fist. "You're not my mother to lecture me on what I can and cannot do!"

The older woman pressed her back to the wall, staring at her patient with fright. Hiccup didn't like this. This was so wrong.

"Rhea, reconsider!" pleaded Hiccup's father. "You don't have to…!"

"Don't!" she glared at him. "Don't. Even. Try."

He dropped his hands. He looked aside. She stared on, bitter and hurt. Hiccup didn't understand why. It was all going so well. What went wrong? At what point?

He calmed his breath. He could do it. He could help.

"Fear and doubt," he sung quietly. "Not allowed," he swallowed hard, forcing himself to look at Rhea. "Carnage's what it's all about."

She met his gaze. He stared on, pleadingly. She calmed down somehow. There was more pain in her than anger. The progress encouraged him to step closer.

"Have no doubt. Grow a pair," he sung louder, with more confidence. "Catch your victims unaware."

"Don't," she said quietly, looking down. "Just don't."

"Don't give in to despair. Tears…"

"TEARS won't get you anywhere," she cut in, eying him down. He stopped, scarred, and she finished, glaring at him intensively. "Innocence – get thee hence. Things are bound to get intense."

She stared at him still, her expression annoyed, accusing. He met her gaze, looking for clues, for anything, any sign of hope he could cling to. He found none. "Rhea…?"

"Leave," she ordered, turning to the wall. "Just leave."

Hiccup felt like crying. He wanted to make her happy. Why was she so angry? Why did she push them away like this? He didn't understand. Didn't she like him any more?

His father touched him gently. "Come, Hiccup. We're going home."

And so they went.

In the days to come Hiccup tried to think of ways to help Rhea. New gifts. New songs. Anything that could make her feel better. But the adults shook their heads.

"She made her choice," said father. "We cannot stay in her way."

"She needs some time alone," said Gobber. "I'm sure she'll return one day."

But she never did. Six weeks after the accident occurred she boarded the ship Hiccup's father gave her. She wore the eye-patch Hiccup made for her. It didn't make him feel any better.

"Thank you for everything," Hiccup's father told her.

"No, Stoick," she replied. "Thank YOU."

"Rhea," Hiccup said, doing his best not to cry. "I love you."

She made a sad face. "Thank you," she replied.

And then she was gone. She didn't even look back. And Hiccup never understood why.


End file.
